


Play Date

by KivaEmber



Category: Shin Megami Tensei, Shin Megami Tensei Series, Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Gen Fic, Kid Fic, Pre-Canon, Yamoeto being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Canon, mildly AU. Although the Hotsuin Family were doing well in moulding Yamato into the leader he was to become, Alcor felt that they were failing in teaching him how wonderful humans were. So he dumps eight year old Yamato in a park. Parenting is not Alcor’s strong point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Date

**Author's Note:**

> I play a little with Japanese pronouns later on, and I am by no means an expert on the Japanese language, so correct me if I’m wrong. But long story short – Watashi is a formal way of saying ‘I’, and is gender neutral – however in informal or casual settings, it’s normally viewed as a feminine way of saying I. Ore is obviously what men use, and can be quite rude at times, but mostly self-confident manly manly men use ore, so children don’t normally use it. Kids might use ora, although only if they watched like Dragonball or something, but they usually say their own name because it’s ‘cute’. Atashi and atakushi are feminine ways of saying ‘I’, with atashi being considered very cute and mostly used in verbal communication, not written. I think atakushi is for written. Well both are informal so w/e Also –tan is a very cute way of saying ‘chan’.
> 
> So many ways of saying ‘I’ Japan whyyyy…

Children were draining.

 

This was a conclusion that Yamato came to after several minutes of watching kids run screaming about a play park, climbing strange contraptions or playing on a swing set, rolling about in the grass, or kicking up sand in a strange platform. They appeared to have an endless amount of energy, and spent it acting like rogue fireworks loose in a confined space. He couldn’t understand why they shouted so loudly – shouting a sign of distress, or warning, from what he understood, yet there was no distress, and the parents nearby did not seem at all concerned about their children screaming.

 

Yamato contented himself to a few more minutes of observation. Aside from their screaming, wild flailing, they were also dressed differently. The Hotsuin Family were very traditional, and although the adult JP’s members wore modern clothing, as well as the servants, Yamato himself spent most of his days dressed in yukata or kimono, depending on the occasion. As this was ‘casual’, and it was a rather warm summer, he was dressed in a very simple dark blue yukata with wooden geta. It was comfortable, and he liked the noise the geta made when stepping on stone, a soothing ‘ _clack clack clack’_ noise.

 

The other children, however, were dressed mostly in Western clothing, with scuffed up trainers for footwear. Yamato was completely out of place in both fashion and understanding, and from what he understood about socialising that meant that the children would be very wary of him – or curious. Children were like animals, in that strange things would draw their attention, yet would also scare them.

 

Yamato fidgeted with his sanjaku obi, taking some comfort in the soft quality to the sash. He looked about himself for any sign of his caretaker, but the strange demon was absent. It was odd. Alcor normally hovered over him outside of the Hotsuin Estate – literally – like some super powered guard dog, and although it was wise to be wary of demons since many of them ate humans, including children, Yamato always felt safe around Alcor. He was peculiar, but he had been nothing but kind to him.

 

Which was why it was odd that Alcor would suddenly leave him alone out in the open like this. There were many people nearby, adults as well as children, and the Hotsuin Family always warned him of bad people in the outside world, like robbers, or murderers, or ‘paedophile’ (he wasn’t entirely sure what a paedophile was, but it held a very negative implications judging by their disgusted expressions). They were always adults, so although socialising with children was safe, the adults lurking in the peripheral were not.

 

He suddenly felt very vulnerable, and he fidgeted once more with his sanjaku obi. He was completely alone for this, and an unpleasant feeling coiled behind his breastbone, his fingers tightening into the sash. A leader, however, could not be cowed by being alone, or- faced with strange surroundings and wild children. He should do as Alcor said, and…and…

 

 _Socialise_.

 

Squaring his thin (slightly girlish) shoulders, Yamato strode proudly into the fray. The teeth of his geta sank into the loamy grass, but years of walking in them helped him keep his balance easily enough. He looked about him, watching as children ran past without sparing him a second glance, and soon ended up at the swing set. One swing was free, and he sat down on it gingerly. He knew what swings were for, but he didn’t really see the fun in propelling yourself so high above the ground in repetitive motions.

 

His feet couldn’t reach the ground on the swing, and he felt the geta droop down towards the earth due to their weight. He frowned and kicked his feet out a little, letting himself sway forwards a little, and then repeated the motion again.

 

It was boring, so he quickly stopped and sighed.

 

Yamato heard them before he saw them, and he quickly slipped off of the swing and turned just to see a child with his hands raised, as if he had been preparing to shove Yamato off of the swing set. The child scowled, and behind him were two others, tittering quietly as if unsure if they could laugh or not.

 

Yamato took stock of the situation. The boy who tried to shove him was bigger, in both girth and height, and the obvious ringleader of the group. He appeared ten years old, and the other two around that age two, so Yamato concluded that they were pathetic little bullies who deliberately targeted those younger than themselves in order to win.

 

He felt disdain rise in him, but he kept his expression carefully blank, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. He wanted to fidget, but any sign of weakness would have the children scenting weakness. Behavioural psychology. Social cues. Yamato did not know them from experience, but he read about it enough to bluff his way through this scenario.

 

If Alcor was with him, this wouldn’t be an issue. The demon would only have to give the children one stern glare to send them scurrying away. Yamato didn’t know any of the adults, so he couldn’t go to them for help if the situation turned sour, but…

 

He did not need help to deal with a fat child and his brainless minions.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked politely, trying to make his tone soothing. He wasn’t sure he got the inflection right. It pitched strangely in the middle. He frowned.

 

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, since Fat Child just scowled even more, his face scrunching up in a very unattractive way. “What’s a girl doing in a _boy’s_ yukata?”

 

Yamato stared at him. Was Fat Child visibly impaired? “…I’m male.”

 

“Nuh uh!” Brainless Minion #1 giggled. “No way! You’re obviously a girl! You talk like one!”

 

That…was not true. Yamato was not using feminine terms when referring to himself. He used _watashi_ , which was quite polite but not girlish. “No I don’t.”

 

“Yeah you do,” Fat Child sneered. “Watashi’s _girly_ , only girls say that.”

 

“No it isn’t,” Yamato said, fearing that perhaps these three were simply stupid. “ _Watashi_ is a polite, gender neutral pronoun. If I was speaking like a girl, I would say something like, _atashi_ , or _atakushi_. Like this: Can I help you? But I didn’t.”

 

This was apparently very funny, because the three boys cracked up into laughter. Yamato frowned in confusion.

 

“You really are a girl! You girl! Why don’t you go somewhere else? Only _boys_ are allowed to play on the swing!”

 

Yamato was starting to lose his patience with these stupid children. He was not a girl, and he did not like being told what he could and could not do. Playing on the swings was not something that only one gender could do, he knew that – not that he wanted to play on them anyway, since he concluded they were boring, but _still_.

 

“I am _not_ a girl. Stop calling me that.”

 

“Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do about it, _girly_?” Fat Child grinned, and he loomed over Yamato.

 

There was a tense pause, and Yamato glowered up at the other child with an expression of cold anger. He was not strong enough to fight Fat Child and win, sadly, since he was probably three times his weight, and Yamato was not exactly very well-built. He was all slim, delicate limbs and very light, and he didn’t know how to throw a punch (self-defence fighting would not occur in his syllabus until he was in his early teens). This left him with very limited options, and he knew that in some social situations, submitting to the stronger party was necessary.

 

Yamato, however, was a future leader, and future leaders did not submit.

 

So he kicked Fat Child as hard as he could in the groin.

 

Fat Child went down with a loud howl, clutching tightly at his privates and curling up into a little ball. His two minions shouted in shock, and Yamato did the smart thing and ran off while they were surprised. He did not stop until he was on the other side of the park, and Fat Child’s wailings were no longer audible over the shouts of the other children.

 

Yamato’s heart was pounding, and he crouched down behind a tall climbing frame like structure to catch his breath. The rest of his time here would be spent avoiding those three, since he was certain that they would try to exact their revenge on him, and Yamato did not want to be kicked in the privates himself because it hurt very very much. He almost felt guilty about what he did, and then he remembered how stupid Fat Child was and knew he deserved it. It would stop him from procreating too. Stupid people shouldn’t procreate.

 

Yamato looked at his hands and frowned. Did he really look like a girl? He thought it would be obvious he was a boy – clothes aside, he was obviously male, wasn’t he? He looked up from his hands and looked at the children running past, scrutinising them closely. Many of the male children had their hair cut short, and the female children had theirs long, mostly. Yamato played with a lock of his own hair, frowning at the grass in thought.

 

Perhaps his long hair confused them? He didn’t know that boys were supposed to have short hair – but now that he thought on it, Alcor, who he thought was a male demon (maybe, demon gender was weird), had shortish hair. Maybe he did look like a girl. Hmm…was that bad? It was annoying to be called a girl, he realised. That wasn’t his gender, he was a _boy_. He should look like a boy…

 

“Hey, are you okay?”

 

Yamato looked up from where he was frowning at a lock of his hair to a pair of very bright blue eyes. He almost started backwards in surprise, but managed to make the flinch into a natural movement to stand up. The blue eyes belonged to a boy, a bit older than him since he was taller – even with Yamato wearing geta – with messy dark hair (short hair…) and a white, loose top with a bunny ear hood.

 

“…yes, I’m fine,” Yamato said after a pause, suddenly unsure. He didn’t want to kick another person in the groin today. He didn’t want to make too many enemies in such a short span of time.

 

“You sure?” the other boy pressed, his expression looking concerned. “You looked sad. Um, well- I’m Hiro!” He held out his hand, his face brightening with a brilliant smile. “I like your yukata! You look very pretty!”

 

Yamato stared at the offered hand, unsure if he was being insulted again. ‘Pretty’ held feminine implications, and he was still stinging from Fat Child’s earlier mistake over his gender. The blue eyed boy didn’t appear malicious though, and after some suspicious squinting, he cautiously took his hand. “Yamato.” There was a pause, then he added; “I’m a boy.”

 

Hiro looked a bit puzzled. “Um, I know…but okay,” he smiled, and tugged Yamato’s hand, suddenly leading him off somewhere. Yamato’s initial reaction was to pull away, but he followed out of curiosity – also there was safety in numbers, in case Fat Child found him eventually.

 

Yamato was led to another child – this one introduced as Daichi. He had light, brown hair and brown eyes, and had a very plush looking scarf which was out of place, considering the warm weather. Daichi did not appear discomforted by it, though. Hiro ushered Yamato to sit down on the grass, and he did so. They sat in a little three-man circle, and in the centre were robot action figures. Yamato had no idea what they were of.

 

Daichi looked wary of Yamato, and in turn Yamato was wary of him. “So, um, Yamato, right…?”

 

“Yes,” Yamato frowned at the other boy. He said his name not two minutes ago.

 

Daichi squirmed under the intense gaze. “Why’re you wearing a yukata? It’s not Shichi-go-san time yet.”

 

Yamato’s frown deepened. “I’m eight.”

 

“Really?” Daichi’s eyes widened and Yamato could see Hiro smiling down at the grass. He wasn’t sure if he was being made fun of, but it didn’t feel mean. At least he thought, anyway. He frowned anyway just in case.

 

“Yes, really. I had my birthday last month.”

 

“Oh, um…sorry. You look five,” Daichi said, and he fiddled with his scarf. Yamato concluded that Daichi was not being mean – he was just sadly stupid. But it wasn’t the irritating stupid of the other children, so he forgave him for it.

 

“Do you watch Transformers?” Hiro asked, cleverly changing the subject.

 

“No,” Yamato replied, and this was apparently shocking because both Hiro and Daichi stared at him. He fidgeted with his sleeve.

 

“Oh, umm…what do you watch? Dragonball?”

 

Yamato had no idea what these things were. “I don’t…watch anything.”

 

“Don’t you have a tv?” Daichi asked, looking shocked.

 

Yamato wasn’t sure. He supposed the adults had a television to watch to stay atop of the media news – as they got more reliable source from JP’s – but he himself didn’t have one. He shook his head instead, and Daichi looked appalled for him.

 

“That’s awful! So, um, you don’t watch anime at all then…how about manga?”

 

“I don’t know what that is,” Yamato replied.

 

Daichi stared again. Yamato stared back. A noise distracted Yamato, and he looked to the side to see Hiro laughing, a high clear noise of pure amusement.

 

“You two are so silly,” Hiro giggled.

 

“I’m not silly! Yama-tan’s the silly one!”

 

“I am not,” Yamato said indignantly, frowning at the nickname. He was unfamiliar with ‘tan’, so he let it slide for now in case it was a form of pronoun that was actually innocent.

 

“You’re both silly,” Hiro repeated, “You and Yama-tan.”

 

“Whatever,” Daichi huffed. “Well we can’t play Gundam if Yama-tan doesn’t know what it is. Oh! I know!” He picked up the black and white ball that had been sitting at his side ever since Yamato arrived. “Let’s play soccer!”

 

Yamato knew what soccer was – but he only read about it in books. He knew it wasn’t something that could be played with only three people though. “Don’t you need eleven people per team to play soccer?”

 

Daichi stared at him. “What? No – um, I don’t think so. Me and Hiro always play it with whoever…it’s fun!”

 

“I’ll be on your team Yama-tan,” Hiro offered with a small smile. “Daichi’s really good at this game, so I’ll need all the help I can get.”

 

“Oh wait, what about your shoes, Yama-tan?” Daichi asked suddenly. “You can’t play with those on.”

 

Yamato looked down at his geta. He supposed it would be hard running after a ball and kicking it with these. “Hm…”

 

“You can borrow my shoes,” Hiro said, and he started to pull off his battered trainers. Yamato was a bit leery, but Hiro was insistent, and after a bit of wheedling and coaxing, he took his geta off. At least he had the forethought to put on his tabi – even if one didn’t wear tabi with geta or casual yukata, but Yamato put them on anyway for the outing.

 

The trainers were a bit big, and very weird. Yamato had never worn trainers before, and they felt very constrictive in comparison to his geta. He tried not to think too much on it and slowly climbed to his feet. Hiro carefully put his geta beside the robot action figures and leapt up, his socked feet sinking into the grass.

 

“Okay! Um, the goals-”

 

“The trees there are my goal! Your goal can be here,” Daichi said, carefully setting the toys apart to make a makeshift goal. Yamato stood by shifting his weight in the shoes to try and get used to them, watching Hiro and Daichi fuss about in the small space keenly.

 

The game started quickly after that, and the experience was – surprisingly fun.

 

Yamato was, simply put, awful at the game. Daichi was very fast, Hiro wasn’t lying, and he could do strange footwork that could direct the ball to wherever he wanted. Yamato wasn’t the fastest person alive, but when compared to the average civilian child, well – it was a slight blow to his pride. But he didn’t think that much on it. The trainers Hiro leant him were very comfortable at least, and when he kicked the ball, it didn’t hurt at all when compared to how it would feel when wearing geta – or bare feet in Hiro’s case.

 

At least whenever Yamato got the ball, he could kick it very far. The first time he booted the ball it flew all the way to the fence (which was very very far away), Hiro gave an impressed whoop and Daichi said ‘wow’ in a very awestruck way – then he complained when he had to chase after it before it rolled through the gate onto the road. After that Yamato was a bit more careful with how hard he kicked the ball, and he was learning how to aim it very quickly, but Daichi still dominated the football match, even when up against two people for his one.

 

Once they were all dirty and sweaty and tired, the match ended six-two in Daichi’s favour. They sat around the robot toys, breathing quickly from exertion, and Yamato found that he couldn’t stop smiling. He lost, he was dirty, he was tired, and his legs hurt from where Daichi kicked him a few times due to tackles, but he had _fun_. It was…weird. Strange. He remembered to give Hiro back his trainers, but he didn’t put his geta back on.

 

“You started to get it, Yama-tan,” Daichi said suddenly, grinning at him rather boyishly. “You still stink at soccer, though.”

 

“Yes, well, you kicked too much,” Yamato grumbled, pulling up a clump of grass at throwing it at Daichi. The other boy laughed and raised his arm against the thrown grass, and Yamato felt himself smile again. Was this how it felt to socialise? It was nice. He didn’t really want to leave.

 

“We should play again!” Hiro said enthusiastically. “Next time we’ll bring some manga you can read, Yama-tan. That’d be fun, right?”

 

“Mn! You should really read Dragonball!”

 

Yamato was curious despite himself, but he wasn’t sure if he could promise to come back here again. He could ask Alcor, perhaps, but no doubt his caretakers would be in an uproar when he returned. Alcor had a tendency to take him away without asking them first. Yamato was used to it, and was only sometimes annoyed about it.

 

“If…I see you again, maybe…” Yamato said quietly.

 

“We’re here every weekend,” Hiro said happily. “We’ll see you if you come here at any time during the weekend. We’ll spot you, Yama-tan.”

 

“You do stick out,” Daichi grinned, tossing the soccer ball up and catching it. “Maybe bring a pair of your own trainers, yeah?”

 

“I…” Yamato felt a bit overwhelmed. “Yes,” he finally said, fiddling with his sanjaku obi, his throat suddenly feeling tight for reasons he could not explain. “Y-Yes, okay.”

 

“Yamato Hotsuin.”

 

He saw Hiro and Daichi jump from beneath his eyelashes, but Yamato was used to Alcor’s sudden appearances, so he merely tilted his head back to see the demon standing behind him. He stood out in his black and red stripped suit, and his shocking white hair. He could see a few nearby adults giving the man wary looks.

 

“Is it time to go back home?” Yamato asked, and his tone sounded faintly disappointed.

 

“Yes,” Alcor replied, and he held out his hand. The demon looked mildly happy – which meant he was very happy – and Yamato heaved a great sigh and pulled on his geta before standing up. He took Alcor’s hand and turned to Hiro and Daichi.

 

“…it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again,” he said formally.

 

“See you, Yama-tan,” Hiro said cheerfully, giving him a little wave. Daichi was staring at Alcor with wide eyes, but he eventually looked at Yamato and gave a weak grin. “Y-Yeah, see you, Yama-tan. Remember to come back here, ‘kay?”

 

Yamato nodded and Alcor led them both away. Alcor’s movements were slightly awkward, and he knew that the demon hated walking. He only did so in crowded places like these where they were scrutinised, but he walked like his knees weren’t able to bend properly. It was actually sort of funny at times.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Alcor asked, leading them to a more secluded part of the park. Alcor’s teleportation was a bit flashy at times.

 

“Yes. I did.”

 

“I’m glad.”

 

And Alcor actually did sound glad. There was a faint smile on his lips, and when they stopped under the shelter of some trees, Alcor looked down at him with an expression Yamato couldn’t decipher. The demon suddenly reached out with his free hand to ruffle Yamato’s hair, which Yamato protested against vehemently, and tightened his grip around the child’s hand.

 

“Perhaps we will come back.”

 

Yamato squeezed Alcor’s hand, seeing the blue glow surround them both. “…maybe.”

 

In a flash, both of them were gone, returning to the Hotsuin Estate. They didn’t come back. 


End file.
